


Malinois

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Collars, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Handcuffs, M/M, PWP, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori adores Dwalin too much to break the perpetual cycle of loving punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malinois

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecaptainhedgehog (lyzeebyrd)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyzeebyrd/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for thecaptainhedgehog’s “Dwalin/Ori, I love the idea that between them, Ori is the more dominant one in their personal life, and Ori likes to tie Dwalin up and tease him. It doesn't matter whether Ori is a power bottom or tops, really. Just the idea that Ori's in charge in the bedroom” prompt on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The scroll was just an excuse to leave, but like all of Erebor’s forgotten treasures, it would call to any dwarf. Ori finds himself unrolling the end on his way back to his quarters, skimming old ruins scratched with blotchy ink. Most of the sentences he intakes have to be read twice, because as fascinating as its story is, Ori’s chambers hold a better one.

And it’s for that he walks faster, anticipation barreling him through the door. He slips out of his boots and places the scroll neatly on a spare counter, in the only space not already loaded with books and weapons. These rooms have come a long way from the broken, dusty mess with which he found them, but they’ve slipped somewhat back into too much clutter; he has too many interests, and his housemate’s never been much for cleaning. 

Fortunately, Dwalin’s good for other things. When Ori finally makes it into their bedroom, still lit with burnt-low candles, he gets a primary example: Dwalin looks absolutely _scrumptious_ when he’s naked.

He looks good clothed too, but Ori prefers his lover like this and can’t help but grin as he strolls towards the bed. Dwalin’s already perched in the middle of it, right where he was left. His thick arms are pulled taut behind his back, wrists fastened together with heavy cuffs. His chest is straight for it, posture perfect, broad shoulders squared. His neck boasts an iron collar, attached to a chain down the front that slopes over one shoulder and pools in the mattress, tied securely around one of the bedposts. He sits on his knees, and they’re each wrapped in another cuff and affixed to a thin bar between that holds them open. It forces a clear view of his large cock, jutting straight forward. The head’s purpling, flesh darker with arousal, lifted out of black-grey curls, not unlike the healthy scruff of his beard. His stamina’s impressive, and for a moment, Ori just eyes his prize. 

This gives Ori a spark of delight every single time. It never gets old. Dwalin’s an impressive specimen to look at, all hard, bulging muscles and elaborate tattoos, chiseled and painted up like a statue. Beyond that, Ori has seen him in action and _knows_ what a great warrior he is. And big, strong, noble Dwalin submits for little Ori, some common dwarf from the Blue Mountains. The cuffs are all metal, but the bindings are leather, and Dwalin could probably escape if he truly wished to. He never does. He obeys his boyfriend, and Ori rewards him by crawling closer, near enough to peck his crooked nose, purring against his handsome face, “I’m so pleased you waited for me, Dwalin. You’re such a _good boy._ ”

Dwalin’s teeth grit together, a hungry growling noise in the back of his throat. When they’re both in bed, sometime he won’t speak until spoken to. Ori isn’t really talking to him yet, just laying compliments. Ori runs his small hand along Dwalin’s cheek and drifts down into the thick tufts of Dwalin’s beard, where he weaves his fingers in and _tugs_. Dwalin grunts, eyes burning. Ori murmurs thoughtfully, “Perhaps I should give you a reward...”

Dwalin doesn’t really smile; he gets _fierce_ in bed, even when he’s acting Ori’s plaything. Ori already knows he likes rewards, always does. He likes being _good_ , for his king in court, his commander on the battlefield, or his master in private. Ori takes his time running his hands down Dwalin’s body more for himself than anything. He palms Dwalin’s smooth chest, ruffles through the coarse smattering of hair down the middle, and trails aside to pinch Dwalin’s brown nipples. Dwalin hisses, and Ori twists, just a little bit—he never likes to _hurt_ , even though he knows Dwalin would take it _rough_. He just strokes as hard as Dwalin’s hardened flesh will allow, and he tugs Dwalin’s nipples until they’re nicely pebbled, and he can feel Dwalin’s breath swelling more laboured against his hands. 

Ori always likes to trace Dwalin’s six-pack, and at Dwalin’s naval, he fists his fingers through the thicker growth of dark hair. Dwalin lifts subtly up on his thighs, trying to bring his cock closer to Ori’s busy hands, but Ori scolds, “Sit,” and Dwalin obediently listens. 

Ori makes it down to Dwalin’s shaft in his own good time. It’s rock-solid, pulsing hot in his palms, always _ready_ for him. Ori keeps his face aligned with Dwalin’s as he idly traces the snaking routes of the veins twisting around Dwalin’s cock, even though Dwalin’s a little taller, and Ori has to lift up for it. He can see Dwalin’s eyes sizing up his mouth, but he resists kisses for now—he loses himself in them too easily. He’s still rubbing Dwalin in his dry hands, and as he reaches the tip and circles his thumb around the little hole in the foreskin, he asks sweetly, “Perhaps I should climb into your lap and ride this big thing?”

Dwalin opens his mouth, maybe to say _yes_ , but Ori quickly adds, “Oh!” Dwalin hushes again, and Ori coyly muses, “But that would be such a waste.”

He leaves one hand securely around Dwalin’s fat cock, and he dips the second beneath Dwalin’s large stones, drifting between them to rub at Dwalin’s crack. After a bit of fingering, Ori finds the rounded bottom of the toy he left jammed up Dwalin’s ass—one of Bofur’s best creations—and with a grin, Ori taps it. “Poor thing. Your hole must be just _aching_ by now, full of this rigid thing, when you could have a nice, hot, _real_ dick inside you...”

Dwalin lets out a strangled groan, hisses through his clenched teeth, and Ori nuzzles affectionately into the side of his face. Ori always _loves_ Dwalin’s noises. He presses his finger harder against the toy, hoping to push it deeper inside, but it doesn’t have anywhere else to go, and the effect is only a shiver raking down Dwalin’s prone form. Giving Dwalin’s cock a teasing stroke, Ori coos into his lover’s ear, “Well, love? Would you like to have me inside you, instead?”

Nodding fractionally, Dwalin hisses, “Aye, lad.” It makes Ori chuckle, wrinkling his nose with his grin. He pecks Dwalin’s cheek, amused at the affectionate name used in such contrast to their current positions. But Dwalin is a lot older, a lot bigger, and Ori doesn’t mind being whatever Dwalin needs, because Dwalin is _everything_ Ori wants.

Finally, he gives in, and Ori brings his lips to Dwalin’s, nearly giggling again at the scratch of Dwalin’s beard and mustache. Beneath that, Dwalin’s lips are _soft_ , and he presses forward as much as he dares, tasting Ori in return; Ori’s got his tongue in Dwalin’s mouth in a heartbeat. 

Then he’s rushing forward, knocking Dwalin back and going right down too. Dwalin’s head hits the pillows with a faint grunt, his legs forced up and spread with Ori draped over the bar, his hands all over Dwalin’s body. He keeps meaning to stop, to get up so the bar between Dwalin’s knees won’t be digging into his stomach, but one kiss leads to another, and he’s had a dozen before he finally pulls away. Then he just hovers over Dwalin’s body on hands and knees, looking down, while Dwalin mewls over the loss of contact to his cock. 

Ori’s getting far, far too hot. He’s usually colder than most and dresses for it, but now he pulls his scarf quickly from his neck, tossing it aimlessly aside, and he tugs his sweater over his head to follow. He used to feel self-conscious, doing this, with his round stomach next to Dwalin’s perfect shape, but Dwalin only ever looks _ravenous_ when Ori gets down to bare skin. Ori doesn’t bother to shuffle out of his trousers, just opens the front, and he takes his stout cock out with one hand while the other reaches between Dwalin’s legs. 

He pulls the toy out all in one go, to Dwalin’s sharp cry. It leaves a trail of oil dripping out of Dwalin’s stretched hole, leaking onto the sheets, but Ori will wash them later. He wipes the toy off on his leg and tosses it over to his sweater, knowing he’s just spreading the mess. He’s too busy staring at Dwalin’s gaping hole to care. It’s glistening wetly, but Ori still entertains the thought of diving in to put his tongue to use—he loves licking Dwalin’s taut ass. But then his cock twitches in _want_ and Dwalin moans, “ _Ori_ ,” and it snaps him right out of the reverie.

He climbs back over Dwalin, pushing the bar back to hold Dwalin’s knees to his stomach. Dwalin bends so easily, letting himself be folded in two, with his ass nicely exposed and his cock thrust back against himself, dribbling precum into his pubic hair. Ori already knows he’s not going to touch it—it makes him too over-enthusiastic, makes him come too fast, and worshipping Dwalin’s cock with his hands or mouth is now for special occasions. 

Using Dwalin’s hole, on the other hand, is a daily experience. One that Ori still revels in. He lines up, his own pink cock nudging between Dwalin’s cheeks, and then he rams right in: one fast, brutal thrust to replace the toy, except Ori’s fatter and better and Dwalin tosses back with a _roar_. Ori’s own cry is overrun by it. Once he’s in, he can’t stop, and he shoves his way right to the brim, so his balls press up against Dwalin’s ass and his dick fills every nook and cranny. Even after the toy, pointedly slimmer, Dwalin’s _tight_ , and Ori relishes that burn, the pressure, the heat—he squirms in and bites his lip, shallowly rutting already. 

It takes him several goes to manage to pull out at all, and he immediately slams back inside—he’s little good on the battlefield, but he can be merciless here, because Dwalin robs him of control and he knows Dwalin can take it. Ori splays his fingers against Dwalin’s pecs and thrusts into Dwalin’s gorgeous body again and again. His own body jiggles in response, his braids bouncing against the side of his face. He bends down when he gets the wherewithal, fighting the bar between Dwalin’s spread legs to reach Dwalin’s mouth, and Dwalin’s instantly there to meet him. 

“You’re so _tight_ ,” Ori moans between thrusts, between kisses, when he can. He sucks at Dwalin’s tongue and bites Dwalin’s bottom lip, drags his teeth along it. Then he holds their foreheads together and whimpers, “Dwalin, _Dwalin_ ,” already lost. 

Dwalin’s cries are ragged, constant—he’s vocal and it’s _wonderful_ , like music to Ori’s eager ears. The only coherent word Dwalin gets out is Ori’s name, and it probably wouldn’t even be that if Ori had even one more syllable. Ori starts to rub his hands down Dwalin’s body again, squeezing and scratching, holding on while he fucks Dwalin wildly. He doesn’t know how he ever tore himself away to go to the library, and he’s not sure when he’ll find the time to read that scroll, because all he wants to do is _fill his Dwalin up_ , and Dwalin seems all too happy to oblige. 

Yet Ori still wants _more_. He keeps trying to force himself to pause but can’t, and he winds up squirming his hands beneath Dwalin’s back in amongst it all, bent awkwardly but still rutting into his lover. He manages to find the locking mechanism on the cuffs, the tiny levers just out of Dwalin’s reach that only dwarves could design. He flicks it open, and Dwalin’s wrists wrench out of the cuffs like he’s been waiting for it all along. 

As soon as Dwalin has the chance, his hands are around Ori’s middle, and Ori thinks to tell him to be still but doesn’t get the words out quick enough. Dwalin lunges up, the momentum throwing Ori backwards. His spine hits the mattress, his knees bent and legs stretching out, while Dwalin lands right in his lap. Ori’s still buried inside, and Dwalin doesn’t miss a beat. He lifts up and slams down, forcing Ori to _scream_. The weight of Dwalin’s body drives Ori impossibly deeper, and the force of it puts stars behind Ori’s eyes. It’s Dwalin’s turn to feel Ori up, and he starts with Ori’s chest, squeezing and kneading at Ori’s soft flesh while Ori moans and struggles to regain himself. 

Dwalin mutters, “Sorry,” but doesn’t stop. He rides Ori relentlessly, the chain attached to his collar rattling with his movement. It’s not quite pulled taut, but it is when Ori grabs it, jerking the collar straight. Dwalin hisses and is forced to bend forward as far as Ori tugs him. Ori holds Dwalin like that just for some _control_. Dwalin lets himself be cowed and just rides Ori all the harder, his cock now sandwiched right between them. 

He comes first. Dwalin spills himself with a feral roar, his dick spraying a thick jet of white right up to Ori’s beard. He jerks Dwalin’s leash harder, forces Dwalin down to kiss, so the rest of Dwalin’s seed is trapped between their bodies and he can suckle on each of Dwalin’s cries. Dwalin fucks himself right through it. He threads his fingers in Ori’s hair, his handcuffs cold against Ori’s neck, and Ori kisses Dwalin right to the end. 

He follows just when Dwalin’s finish. Dwalin’s hips slow, but Ori’s surge upwards, and he releases into Dwalin’s hot channel. It takes several pumps to milk himself out, aided by the flexing of Dwalin’s spent rear. Ori clutches Dwalin tight for it, now parting their mouths enough to pant for air. He can’t tell if he’s screaming or not; his ears are pounding, his blood rushing too fast through his veins. He feels faintly dizzy but holds on, wanting to live in this moment and enjoy every last sliver of it. 

And then he’s done, trembling and satiated. He lets go. Now he’s glad he’s already lying down, but he’s grateful when Dwalin slips one arm beneath his head like a pillow. 

He worms between their stomachs to snap open the bar binding Dwalin’s legs, and Dwalin spreads them, dragging the bar out. It gives Ori some relief and makes it easier for Dwalin to sit up and off Ori’s flagging cock. It’s still a shame to lose the heat, and Ori gasps as loud as Dwalin. He almost wishes he’d left the toy within arm’s reach so he could plug Dwalin up again, until he regains his own stamina. 

Instead, he tugs at the leash, bidding Dwalin to lie down with him. Dwalin stretches out along his side and mutters gruffly, “Sorry.”

Ori just smiles. He rubs his rounder nose against Dwalin’s, mumbling back, “I didn’t say you could grab me—now I have to punish you all over again.”

Dwalin grins like _he’s_ the lucky one. “Just so long as you don’t leave me tied up like that for it.”

Ori lifts an eyebrow but feels too light, too good, to cruelly tease right now. So he murmurs, “Okay,” and pecks Dwalin’s lips.

Then they share another kiss, then another, and finally, Ori slips off the bed, wandering to the dresser to find a cage for Dwalin’s pretty cock.


End file.
